Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Crisp autumn chills, the dampened crunch of leaves beg the question of what our love could be. Grand ramparts guardthe hardened hearts we keep. Those sprawling wallswhich, Teflon sheathed, oddly shield us from the very warmth we seek.

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Welcome..

...the word play is work but pimpin is EZso catch me i'm ballini'm sick tooif you aint catch me like coughin back when I said you should catch me like rawlings? it's cool cuz most cats i bump into can't catch me that often... ~ Lupe